


You Call That a Punch?

by await_the_dawn



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/await_the_dawn/pseuds/await_the_dawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre gets mugged and Bahorel decides to do something about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Call That a Punch?

All Combeferre knew at this point was that he didn’t want Bahorel to find out. How he planned to go about that, he didn’t know. After all, Bahorel would see the bruises as soon as he came in the house. But he was a bit in shock, so it was only rational for his thought process to be a bit off. He was standing in the bathroom with his shirt off, swiping an alcohol wipe across the cuts he’d gotten wincing a bit, when the front door opened. He chewed his lip before deciding to simply leave the door open.

“Ferre you home?” Bahorel called out, kicking the door shut and tossing his shoes off as he went in.

“In the bathroom,” Cobeferre called back, sighing as he heard Bahorel coming in. The other immediately surged forward, hands gentle as he took Combeferre’s chin in his hand to inspect the damage.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, brushing his thumb over the forming bruise on Combeferre’s cheekbone.

“Mugged,” Combeferre replied as explanation, looking up at him with a quiet sigh, “They took my wallet. Not that there was much in it, need to get all the cards cancelled and replaced though.”

Bahorel rolled his eyes, kissing Combeferre’s forehead before he pulled him close, holding him tightly to his chest. Combeferre closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing his face into his chest, breathing in his scent, some of the tension leaving his frame at the safe feeling.

“Did you see who did it?” he asked after a moment. Combeferre merely shook his head in response.

“They broke my glasses, I couldn’t really make out facial features. One was tall, dark hair, another was really well built,” he shrugged.

Bahorel nodded, pulling back to help Combeferre finish cleaning up. They ended up curled up in bed together, a Christmas movie playing softly in the background, Combeferre curled up on Bahorel’s chest and wrapped protectively in his arms. He fell asleep that way, breathing evening out rather quickly into the movie, Bahorel kissing the top of his head lightly.

…

It wasn’t until a week later that anything changed. Bahorel came limping in the door one night and Combeferre immediately forced him into a kitchen chair. “What happened? Jeez Bahorel you’re a mess. I think your nose is broken…” he started to clean him up, raising an eyebrow at the fact that Bahorel was grinning.

“I found the guys who mugged you,” he explained smugly, not even wincing as Combeferre started to clean him up, “Kicked their asses quite nicely if I say so.”

Combeferre stared at him before the chuckle he couldn’t suppress escaped, leaning forward to kiss him gently. “You’re an idiot.”

“But I’m _your_ idiot,” Bahorel answered with a grin, patiently letting Combeferre fuss over him for the rest of the night.

….

“Are you sure about this?” Combeferre asked, blinking uncomfortably in his contacts and tugging on the wraps around his hands. He looked up at Bahorel, a slightly apprehensive look on his face.

“Of course I’m sure,” the other grinned, mussing Combeferre’s hair with a grin before he went back to finish wrapping his hands. “It’s time you learned how to fight, and I’m going to teach you. That way if someone tries to beat you up again you’ll be able to kick their asses this time instead of letting me do the dirty work.”

Combeferre rolled his eyes with a chuckle but nodded, waiting for him to finish. He flexed his hands, feeling the tightness of the wraps and watching as Bahorel did his own hands.

“Alright, we’re going to start with the basics,” Bahorel started, moving to stand behind Combeferre and manipulating his stance, “You want to make sure you’re planted so they can’t knock you down. If you end up on the ground, you’re fucked and they’re not gonna let you up.”

Combeferre nodded, listening intently and keeping his limbs loose.  Bahorel went through basic fighting moves, having Combeferre practice them until he was sweating, panting a bit as he paused, hands on his hips.

“Alright, now, hit me,” Bahorel smacked his own chest before holding his hands out with a grin.

“What?” Combeferre raised an eyebrow.

“Hit me,” the other repeated, taking a step closer, “I’m not going to go easy on you, but I’ll let you make the first move.”

Combeferre looked at his feet, making the basic stance Bahorel taught him before he swung at Bahorel. Before he knew it he was on his back on the floor, Bahorel above him grinning broadly. “You call that a punch nerd?” he grinned, kissing him before pulling Combeferre up.

Combeferre huffed, swinging again as soon as he was up, Bahorel immediately intercepting it and lightly tapping Combeferre’s stomach with his other hand. Combeferre brought his leg up, a squeal escaping when Bahorel threw him over his shoulder, whacking the back of his leg with a laugh. “Put me down!”

“I like this view,” Bahorel replied, smacking Combeferre’s ass while the other squirmed in his hold, laughing. He set Combeferre down eventually and he charged him, knocking Bahorel to the ground with a huff and a laugh. Bahorel rolled them, pinning Combeferre to the ground and straddling his waist. “I think it’s safe to say that I win,” he hummed, looking down at him. “Now to claim my prize…” he leaned down with a grin, kissing Combeferre deeply while the other grinned underneath him.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the darling Nikki (grantairelecynique on tumblr) for her birthday (oops only two weeks late)


End file.
